


words that serve only to fill up a hole

by spock



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Complicated Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/pseuds/spock
Summary: A friend in need is a friend indeed.





	words that serve only to fill up a hole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/gifts).



Ron focuses beyond their harsh panting, straining to listen for any noise coming from the hallway they’ve just ducked out of. It’s quiet for a few beats before a door slams open. Feet thunder down the hallway, away from the tiny supply closet they’re in, and then another door slams open and closed, all quiet again. 

“Shit,” Flip says in a whisper. He starts laughing, quietly, but with the way that Ron’s plastered to his front, he can feel how Flip’s whole body shakes with it. 

It’s not the only thing he can feel. 

“Chase got you excited there, partner?”

Flip groans and spreads his legs until their aligned with the width of his shoulders, granting Ron some space where he’s standing between them. It makes it so Flip’s slouching against the wall, the usual distance between their heights not so pronounced. “Why?” Flip asks. “You gonna do something about it?” 

Their lips are close. They only started adding kisses to whatever this is a few months ago. _Whatever this is_ , which has been going on for the better part of a year and which neither of them has even remotely spoken about any time their dicks weren’t hard. 

“Yes siree bob,” Ron says, and drops to his knees.

The button and fly of Flip’s jeans come apart easily, almost as if they’re as eager to let Ron at Flip’s cock as Ron is to get at it. He makes a show of nosing into Flip’s groin, breathing out hot and heavy through his mouth at the base of Flip’s cock as he drags down Flip’s shorts. The head of it taps Ron’s adam’s apple after it bounces free of the elastic. 

Flip’s cut and Ron likes that, likes how different Flip is from him. Ron’s intact down there, and Flip’s never shared a semblance of a complaint about it. Quite the opposite; they’ve spent more than one stakeout with Flip’s head down in Ron’s lap, taking his sweet time playing around with Ron’s dick. It’s its own form of torture, all that attention turned on Ron as he struggles to do the work of two men, playing lookout as best he can, even as the world turns to stars around him. 

They don’t have time for teasing like that right now though. 

Ron takes the head of Flip’s dick into his mouth, sucking at it, pulling off to kiss right against the ridge, working his lips around the curves and contours before finally swallowing Flip deep into his throat. It’s taken a little practice, but Ron’s gotten good at this, dare he say so himself. 

Flip pets at his cheeks, strokes his thumb around the circle of Ron’s lips where they’re spread wide around the shaft. Ron is aware of how careful Flip is to keep his hands anchored around Ron’s jaw, his neck. They learned that particular lesson the hard way, early on into whatever this is. Ron’s hair is a dead giveaway whenever they get up to shit like this, and there’s only so many times they can claim roughhousing before things start to add up.

It’s why Ron has a certain fondness, beyond the obvious, for the times when it’s Flip down on his knees. Ron can mess up Flip’s hair as much as they like and nobody notices a damn thing. He’s been thinking about getting the guy a brush for Hanukkah. Or maybe a perm. 

He laughs, throat working twice around the head of Flip’s dick, a huff of air from his nose. “Hey,” Flip asks, “What’s so fucking funny down there?”

When Ron pulls off he realizes that his jaw is starting to ache. That's one of his favorite things about this, the ache of it all, the way his body still is left with tender memories even when their dicks aren’t hard. “You ever think about rocking a jewfro?” he asks.

“You ever think about shutting the fuck up?”

Ron grins. He presses his teeth into the vein running up the middle of Flip’s dick, then sucks one, both of Flip’s balls into his mouth, using his hand to jack him off as Ron’s mouth is otherwise occupied.

Another idea flits into his mind, and he pulls off again to ask, “You ever think about me fucking you? Or you fucking me? I’m not picky.” It’s just about the only thing they haven’t done yet. 

“Jesus everloving Christ,” Flip says it all in one long, drawn-out groan. He dick gets impossibly harder where Ron’s still working him over with long strokes of his wrist. Flip starts coming without much more warning than that. Ron has to use what he likes to think of as his ninja skills to get his mouth back into position, swallowing it down. He’s had enough practice by now to know Flip’s tells, which is why he manages to get it all, save a spare streak that lands on his cheek. 

Flip, well and truly spent, doesn’t do much more breathe heavily through his nose as Ron pulls off him and drags a hand over his beard. He makes sure to hold Flip’s gaze as he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. 

Flip stares at him, transfixed. “Fuck me.” It’s said under his breath, practically unintelligible with the rush of their breathing filling up the small space of the closet, but Ron still hears it. 

“That’s what I’m saying,” he says. 

The big hands still gripping either side of Ron’s jaw start pulling him upwards, and Ron follows their guidance. He stands and presses his face into Flip’s neck, sucking kisses there. 

Flip’s hands drop from Ron’s face, dragging down his neck, one settling to squeeze his shoulder while the other stops on his chest. His hands are big enough that Flip’s fingers curl past Ron’s sides, nails digging into his back. He works Ron’s nipple with his thumb, and even through the medium-weight of Ron’s sweater, it’s enough to get them firming up into hard peaks. 

“Yo,” comes Jimmy’s voice from out in the hallway. “You peckerheads still alive?”

Flips uses the grip he has on Ron’s shoulder to push Ron out from the curve of Flip’s neck, lining their faces up so that he can pull Ron back in for a kiss. His free hand snakes between them, tucking himself back inside his pants and doing up the zip. 

When Flip stands up from the wall it leaves him his usual full-head taller than Ron, makes it so that Ron has to stand up on his toes to keep their mouths connected. It’s far from what Ron would label a hardship.

“I’ll get you back next time,” Flip says. He doesn’t bother pulling back, the words are spoken right into Ron’s mouth. Ron tastes them as much as he hears them. 

“I know you’re good for it.” 

They separate, Flip half-heartedly tucking his shirt into the front of his pants, Ron wiping off his mouth. He takes care to check that Flip’s manhandling at the end there didn’t pull his sweater out from his jeans. Ron gives his dick a sympathetic squeeze where it’s trapped thick and rigid inside the leg of his pants. 

Flip has to reach around him to get at the door handle, and he uses the motion to nuzzle his nose into Ron’s cheek. Ron nuzzles him right back. They separate just before Flip cracks the door open.

“Coast clear?” Flip shouts into the hallway. 

“The fuck you think?” comes Jimmy's answer, and out they go.


End file.
